Page 72 of The Forever Queen

“No, a weapon. So long as Anduril hangs from my body, I am possessed with the talents of legendary heroes, knights, warriors.”

Helm arched a brow, eyes still locked onto the belt.

“None can best you?”

“No,” Aisling said before biting her lip. “Except…” Her eyes wandered, finding Lir across the celebration while the nymphs began kissing his neck. He spoke to Dorkoth beneath the lantern light, neither shrugging the nymphs off nor rejecting their advances as he’d done before. Instead, he did nothing. Allowing their tongues to slide against his throat as he ignored their preening.

Aisling bit her tongue.

“Except Lir,” Helm surmised.

“Aye, except the fae king.”

“And if the belt is removed?” Helm asked.

Aisling wobbled on her feet, tearing her eyes from Lir and the nymphs and returning her attention to Helm.

“Then I become, once more, a sorceress alone,” Aisling confessed.

Helm nodded his head in understanding.

“Why don’t I accompany you to your rooms for the night?” the Sidhe king offered.

“I’d prefer to stay,” Aisling said, crossing her arms clumsily.

“And stare at Lir from afar?” Helm asked. “Or I could help you to your chambers and ensure you’re prepared to find Eogi in the morning.”

Aisling, surprising herself, hesitated.

“I—”

“You what?” Helm pushed. “He is your knight, is he not? You needn’t wait on him.”

Aisling glanced at Lir once more. His back was turned to her now and he hadn’t met her eyes in some time. The nymphs were flushed on either side of him, rubbing the tips of their noses against his cheeks and begging for a morsel of his attention.

Aisling tore her own attention away, chest tight with a sharp pain.

Anduril, on the other hand, sparkled gleefully.

“Very well,” Aisling conceded.

Helm offered the sorceress his arm and, after another brief hesitation, Aisling accepted it.

Gently, the Sidhe king led Aisling away from the tavern center and toward one of the various crooked staircases pressed to the side of Flasing. The colors, the lights, the music, and the smells spun together and mixed inside Aisling’s mind, making dizzy and incoherent her thoughts. Anduril held tightly, rifling its fingers through her head till her temples ached.

They pushed open the battered door and ascended the first stairwell. The sounds of the celebration below grew muffled by the old tavern walls. The floorboards creaked beneath their feet as they walked, increasing the distance between themselves and the tavern center.

At last, they reached Aisling’s chamber door.

“Thank you,” Aisling said, not meeting Helm’s eyes. She pressed her back to the door, staring down at her bare feet. She could scarcely think coherently, and the world was rocking back and forth like a cradle.

“You’re welcome,” he said, planting his boots before her. He leaned forward, placing a hand against the wall by Aisling’s head.

Aisling swallowed.

“Good night,” she said, grabbing the doorknob beside her and turning it. Helm abruptly reached his hand out and grabbed hers before she could open the door.

“What are you doing?” Aisling asked, the world spinning more quickly.

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